Overworked
by MajesticTragesty
Summary: AU. With money running low back home, Merlin is forced to take up a job in the department store 'Camelot,' where strange things have started happening, bosses wear burger king crowns, and the head of department acts like a royal prat. T for language?


**A.N: I should be updating my other fic, but I've had this one written out for a while now. If you want to read this chapter, go ahead. I might not complete it, though.**

**This is AU. **

**There will be no sex because not only can I not write it, but I don't really know how it works either.**

**I do not own Merlin.**

**I'm basing this on my work experience in Debenhams, so not everything will be correct.**

**Any spelling errors are my own fault.**

* * *

><p>Usually when it came to working in shops, you either had to go through an agency, or you had to have a CV and go for an interview and be asked questions and possibly never get hired because someone better than you would get the job. That seemed to be how England worked, these days. With unemployment becoming a "thing" in the country, it was by pure <em>chance<em> that Merlin Emrys Ambrosia had a magic talking dragon figurine that knew other magical beings who could get people jobs.

And he didn't even need to go for an interview.

As he made his way through one of the biggest shopping centres in London, gazing around absent-mindedly at the shops, he thought of his mother, Hunith, back in Ealdor. Merlin didn't come from a very rich family, and he'd only ever met his father once – the day he died – so it was hard to keep up with the bills. The only reason he decided to get a job was to help his mother. They needed whatever money they could get. His mind then wandered back to the conversation he had with his sculpture back home.

"_You'll need to be careful when introducing yourself, however, young warlock," Kilgharrah, the dragon figurine which seemed to love watching Merlin try to figure things out for himself and completely fail, warned. All he moved was his mouth, and he spoke as calmly as a wooden figure could._

"_It's only stacking shelves and hanging clothes up. I'll be fine," the boy retorted, packing a bag unnecessarily. He was going to be working in a department store – why the hell he would need to pack clothes and personal belongings, the dragon would never know. For a miniature sculpture, Kilgharrah knew a lot of things; Merlin's mind, though, was a mystery._

"_That's not the problem." There was a brief pause, with the only sound in the room being Merlin hopelessly trying to shove a sweater into the second bag he acquired out of nowhere. "The problem is where you're working and who you're working for."_

_Merlin hesitated and glanced towards the great dragon, who sat idly by the unmade bed on a small, untidy bedside table._

"_What do you mean?" Obviously, Merlin had no idea where he was working. How was he supposed to make his way to the workplace if he didn't even know _where _he was working? Kilgharrah sighed. _

"_Camelot. Your manager happens to despise magic, Merlin. He is Uther Pendragon. He forbids any use of magic, even the practise of magic, no matter what the reason."_

_Merlin grinned sheepishly, then returned back to his packaging. "I guess I won't use it in front of him them."_

_The dragon laughed, remaining perfectly still on the table. "Be careful, young warlock."_

"_Oh, you know me. Careful is pretty much my middle name."_

"_Except your middle name is Emrys," Kilgharrah noted._

"_Well, yeah, except my middle name is Emrys."_

_Everything will be fine. Perfectly fine. Nothing will go wrong,_ he kept telling himself as if he was a broken record. He'd even said it out loud a few times, gaining stares from the passers-by and a few quizzical looks. He didn't care what looks he earned: he was doing this for his mother.

And before he knew it, he was already standing at the entrance of his destination: Camelot Department Store.

* * *

><p>"You're absolutely sure he doesn't possess magic?"<p>

"He's my nephew, Uther. If he had magic, I would have told you already."

Two of the older men at the store, one sitting on what seemed to be a comfortable spinning chair, one standing in a gentlemanly manner, discussed the new employee's standings. The man on the chair, presumably the manager, seeing as he had a badge saying "UTHER - KING OF CAMELOT," attached to his perfectly tailored suit and happened to be wearing a 'Burger King' crown on his head, had his hands splayed out on his desk, appearing calm, but his brow creased with worry and concern. It took all of the other man's power to not laugh at his 'king's stupid attempt to seem friendly and not at all curious. Uther had a habit of trying to seem nice and friendly towards new employees or possible 'allies,' as he liked to call them, in order to earn their trust. He based his business completely on old tales and legends of "King Arthur," naming not only the shop after the kingdom, but also naming his _son_ after the legendary king. He even started calling the delivery boys the "knights of Camelot."

"You're a trusted employee and medic, Gaius. I have no reason to doubt you, but if he so much as utters a single word in another language, you _and _your nephew will find yourselves without jobs."

The man standing, Gaius, as he'd been referred to, bowed politely and turned, reaching for the door handle before being stopped.

"Gaius."

He turned his head to look at his employer with a raised brow.

"I'm serious."

And on that note, with a simple bow of the head, Gaius left the office.

* * *

><p><em>im here<em>

Merlin thumbed in the letters on his mobile and hit the send button. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long before Gaius got his text. He only hoped Gaius knew how to _use _his mobile. Merlin only took a few steps into the place and looked towards the staircase, memorising its location for no reason whatsoever, and his phone roared. It literally _roared._ His text tone was a dragon roar, after all. It shocked a few of the customers, but things went on as normal, otherwise.

_In a meeting. Sending another staff member to greet you. She's a nice girl. Don't try to scare her with your text message tone thing._

Merlin laughed and looked around. There were two girls walking towards him, but he couldn't see if they were wearing nametags. When he started walking again, he saw one of them wasn't wearing a nametag, but the other had her back to him so he couldn't tell. His phone decided to roar again.

_You also need to tell me how to set personal ringtones on this device. I'd like to be prepared in case our 'king' decides to call me without notice._

He stuffed his phone back in his pocket, wondering how his uncle had the time to text him if he was in a meeting, and also noticing the way he actually texted properly. Not the text talk he used, but actual, spelt-out words. When he finally looked up, the girls – or rather, girl, now – he saw earlier looked in his direction with a startled expression. The ringtone scared her, he guessed. She shook herself and cleared her throat, then walked towards him with a pleasant smile on her face.

"Welcome to Camelot, sir. May I be of assistance in any way?" Her voice was kind, and she sounded like she actually enjoyed doing this. It was only when she blushed and turned her gaze to the floor that Merlin realised he had a stupid grin plastered on his face and was staring at her. His day seemed to be getting better by the minute. The woman had already brightened it up with her smile alone.

He held a hand out towards her, repositioning the bag he held in his other hand because it was going red. She glanced over towards it, then gave him a curious look, as if to say '_you're a strange one._'

"Oh! Oh, sorry. Merlin. Merlin Ambrosia. I – I start work here today, and Gaius said that a -"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I should have noticed! Gaius told me you'd be arriving, probably with a bag that you didn't need. He also told me to 'look for a boy with large ears and a red scarf,' but I was helping a customer and didn't notice straight away!" she shook his hand and curtsied, then beamed at him. "I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Merlin!"

"Oh, no, the pleasure is all mine," he responded unnecessarily. She blushed again and he covered up his laughter with a cough. Gwen thought that his cough meant he wanted to continue on to . . . wherever he was going.

She twisted her head slightly and looked over towards the staircase he noticed a while ago, then turned back and gestured for him to follow her. "Uther should give you a quick briefing down there and tell you which section you'll be working in." They both walked towards the staircase in silence, but it wasn't an awkward one. Merlin watched the customers shopping and queuing, and although the queues seemed long, the people didn't seem to mind at all. Gwen broke the silence first.

"Oh, um, we have a bit of a . . . tradition here. Uther likes the stories of King Arthur, which is why he named this store after the kingdom of Camelot." She pushed the doors open, holding it to the side so Merlin could go through first. When he nodded a _thank-you,_ she smiled again and continued; "he's. . . a bit strange. Oh! Don't tell him I said that though, please! He'd have my head off! Oh, um, figuratively speaking. . ." she paused at a pair of white doors with a security key-pad on the side. She bit her thumb in thought, then keyed in a specific number. The door clicked, and she held it open for Merlin to step through. He nodded again and stood between two sets of steps; one leading up, one leading down. Gwen noticed he had no idea which way he had to go, so she pointed towards the stairs leading down. "He's just down there. You'll see two more sets of doors – go through the green ones, and the room next to the statue of 'The Sword in The Stone' is his."

Merlin started walking down the steps, and as soon as he reached the bottom he grinned back up at Gwen. "Thanks," was all he could really say. Just as he was about to go through the door, Gwen cleared her throat and hopped down after him.

"Be careful with what you say, though. He, um, he likes to think that he's the 'king' around here. I mean, yes, he's the manager, but since his wife died, he's lost all trust in magic. Although it's weird. . . he still named this place after Camelot, and he named his son Arthur. . . oh, no, I wasn't meant to say that! I was meant to say that you should call him 'sire' whenever you can." She paused, thinking her words through carefully. "And, um, you might not want to. . . laugh at him. At any time. You can't laugh at his nametag or the fact he wears a Burger King crown when you first meet him. It's not a good idea."

"Wait, he wears a _Burger King_ crown?" Merlin asked, trying to not burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Gwen was trying to do the same thing, but at least he had a bit more control.

"Shhh! He'll hear you!" she whispered, shaking her head and giggling quietly. "Look, I'll probably see you later, okay? My break is at three o'clock. The staff room is up the other staircase. You can't miss that, either, unless you have really bad eyesight and can't read the huge lettering saying 'staff room.' Your department should have a time-table with the lunch breaks on it, but if you can't find your name, just ask the head of your department." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Well, it's almost time for me to get back, and I can't keep Morga – I mean, 'milady' waiting." Merlin raised a brow, but Gwen shrugged it off and went back upstairs. She'd forgotten to tell him the code to get in to the place, but he could always ask Gaius about that later. For now, though, he had to go and find out what kind of manager wore a burger king crown.

* * *

><p>Morgana had been in the changing rooms all day so far. Whenever the changing rooms were empty, she'd sneak in to look at her hair in one of the long mirrors, then see if anyone was waiting or checking up on her, and if there <em>wasn't <em>anyone she'd try on one of the dresses hanging up on one of the sale racks. If anyone noticed, they didn't bother to say anything. She was the head of the womens-wear department, after all. Being the manager's son's cousin had its advantages. She got the work placement easily, and had been assigned as the manager on the second day. Uther loved her like she was his own daughter, and that was why she got the job. Her father's company disbanded, and that had a huge effect on him. He died about a month afterwards. That was when Uther took her in. He gave her shelter, a job, food, clothing – everything. And that was why she stayed.

Another reason for staying was because she was able to meet Gwen, the sweet girl who tended to her every wish and brought her flowers and _sometimes _helped her sneak out when she was feeling hungry. Gwen was like a sister to Morgana, and that was why she loved working at the Camelot department store.

She owed everything to Uther, his son and Gwen. She'd wanted to leave Camelot many times. They were the reason she hadn't quit her job.

While she was able to boss around whoever she wanted, _however_ she wanted, she chose not to. Every now and again someone did something wrong, but she wouldn't shout like Uther or his son would/ Actually, Uther was probably the only one who _would_ shout, and then after the shouting had finished there would probably be a firing and a very confused ex-worker. If anything went wrong in her department, she would take care of it herself. She didn't need to rely on Uther.

She was in the middle of trying on a stunning red dress, sighing slightly when she realised there was a tear in the sleeve, when Gwen appeared from around the corner. She greeted her friend with a kind smile, and it was returned back to her.

"Gwen! Good morning to you!" she exclaimed, pulling her best friend into a tight welcoming hug. Gwen hugged back and picked up one of the shirts on the floor. It probably fell off its hanger at some stage. Gwen noticed Morgana holding an empty hanger.

"God morning, milady. You're, um," she cleared her throat and gestured towards one of the changing rooms; "you're making sure our sale items are suitable, I see."

Morgana chuckled and span on her heel, picking up another dress hanging on the rack and holding it against her.

"I'm not sure if this colour suits me, but the other dress has a tear in the sleeve. It's a pity, really: it was such a beautiful dress."

Gwen raised a brow, hung the shirt back up, then turned to collect the dress from the cubicle Morgana had been in. She straightened the sleeve out to look at it. That wasn't a normal tear. Gwen made clothes, and whenever something caught and ripped, it didn't look like that. Instead of worrying her superior, though, she slung the dress over her arm and made sure to ignore it.

"I'll take this out the back, shall I? There's no use in selling it if it's in this state. . ."

"Oh, but that's a waste! Why not take it home and use it yourself? I'm sure you can put the fabric to good use, Gwen! We can't all throw away good quality fabrics whenever we want like Uther does. One tear doesn't mean it can't be used something else, right?"

That was why Gwen loved Morgana. Not in a literal sense, but in a sibling sort of way. Morgana didn't waste things. If it could be reused, she gave it to Gwen, because she knew Gwen would put it to good use. Occasionally Gwen made a few things for Morgana, and being a clothes-maker herself, she understood how precious the fabric was.

Gwen checked her watch. Eleven o'clock. Only four more hours until her lunch break. Thank the gods.

* * *

><p>The talk with Uther really was brief. He asked questions about magic non-stop, like "have you used magic recently?" and "have you had magic used on your at any time in your life?" Merlin had a headache at the end of it. He was glad to be able to leave the room after fifteen minutes. He flicked back the pin on his new name-tag, pinched part of his shirt, and carefully threaded the needle through it, pushing it back down so it slotted back in to place securely.<p>

He quickly pulled out his phone again to text Gaius. He wasn't allowed to have any personal belongings on him for some reason, and he couldn't have his phone on since they usually distract people. Merlin was convinced they just didn't want to hear embarrassing ringtones. Like his. His text tone scared people. Merlin really needed to change his text tone.

_wats the code 4 the staf doors? _He thumbed in, stalling by the locker he'd been given. He put his bag in slowly, fidgeting with different things in the bag and rearranging bits for no reason at all. Another worker walked past and eyed him suspiciously. Merlin was grateful his phone vibrated just at that moment.

_418109_

That seemed like a long code to him. Weren't codes usually four numbers long? He made a mental note, put his phone in his locker, twisted the key and walked back towards the staircase Gwen left him at. When he reached the exit, he couldn't open the doors, and since magic was forbidden and there were CCTV cameras watching his every move, all he could do was look for a button or something.

He stood there for five whole minutes trying to figure it out when another employee came along.

"Are you new?" Merlin nodded. "There's a small button on the doorframe. It's tiny, so I can see how you missed it. All you needed to do was _brass_k," the man laughed to himself. Merlin didn't get it. He took a look at the man's nametag. George – sales advisor? Well, that'd be one person he'd make sure to steer clear of. Brass jokes really didn't suit the man, and his didn't make any sense at all.

"Thanks," Merlin said, and hurried out of the door to get away from the brass joker.

He took the customer lift up to the next floor: menswear. He was told he'd be working in that department for the week under the supervision of his own son. He pressed the button to go up a level just as a man and child were about to enter the lift. He held the doors open with the button and gave them a brief smile. The man nodded his acknowledgement, whereas the boy stared up at him with big, pale blue eyes. Merlin tensed and felt a shiver run down his spine, so he averted his gaze and found a sudden interest in the button with the number '5' on it. How many floors did this place have, anyway? Was it possible to have a fifth floor? What would they even _put_ on a fifth floor? The man interrupted his train of thought.

"Come, Mordred. This is our floor."

The boy tore his eyes away from Merlin finally and focused ahead of him. Mordred pulled his grey hood over his head and walked out, observing his surroundings before circling back around to meet Merlin's eyes.

_I'll be looking for you later, mister Emrys._

In that moment, it was as if time stood still for all the wrong reasons. He hadn't done anything to offend the boy, had he? And how was he using telepathy? Maybe he was a being of magic, too. He twirled back and muttered something to the man, presumably his guardian, and Merlin noticed a symbol on the boys back. It wasn't a brand's symbol, he knew that for sure.

He really hoped he wouldn't have to see that boy again. It gave him chills just thinking about it.

The lift doors closed on him once again.

* * *

><p>"Mordred, you seem a bit off today."<p>

_It's nothing._

"Come, now. I rarely see you like this."

_That man from the lift. He has magic._

"Yes, he does. But you must not let anyone in this shop know. Not even the manager."

_I know. We will be coming back here, won't we?_

"Of course. Camelot's planning a half-price sale next week. I wouldn't miss it. Maybe we can buy you a new hoodie, too."

* * *

><p>"Merlin?"<p>

The young warlock had been walking around aimlessly, getting himself lost in every direction possible. He really should have picked up that map of the store, if it could even be called a store. Camelot was more like a museum you could actually buy multiple things at. He pivoted round to see a familiar face staring at him in surprise.

"Gaius!"

"_Can a trained medical member of staff please contact 57093."_

"I can't stay for long, I have to see to that warning, but Merlin, my boy, I haven't seen you since you were but a child!" the old man placed a hand on his shoulder and held firm, examining his nephew at different angles.

"I'm guessing there's been an accident?"

Gaius nodded and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. "I was rearranging a shelf when the announcement was made. Apparently someone fell ill after cutting themselves."

"Well, good luck with that. Aren't there any other medics around?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid that they've had the exact same thing happen to them. It's rather unusual, actually. I just hope it isn't too serious." The announcement called out yet another time, making Gaius sigh helplessly. A job's a job, Merlin guessed. Then he had an idea.

"Why don't you train me to be a medic, too? That way you won't have to be the only one running around and –"

The man waved him off. "Nonsense. Do you know how much time it takes? I'm sure you mean well, Merlin, but I can't teach you just yet. Maybe when you become familiar with the layout of this place, but now isn't the right time."

"But you'll be overworked, and you're not exactly the youn—"

"_Can a trained medical member of staff please contact 57093."_

Gaius shrugged, bid a silent farewell to Merlin, and took off for one of the many escalators in the center of the department store. He watched the man sink to the lower floors, and he was rather amused by it all. It looked silly when Gaius appeared to be sliding down diagonally yet standing completely still.

He looked towards one of the hanging signs directing him towards different places: cafeteria to the left, womens-wear on the floor below, toilets on the left, mens-wear straight ahead.

Well. That was that sorted.

Now all he needed was to find the department manager and get his break times sorted and find out what he was going to d—

"You _really_ think I'm that stupid?" came a stern voice from just around the corner. Merlin peeked around the shelf, pretending to be looking for a piece of clothing.

"I didn't take anything!" a young boy cried, clutching the bag he held to his chest.

"Then you won't mind me looking in _this_, will you?" Merlin watched the blonde man tug on the bag the child held. The child released his grip. The blonde opened the bag and shook the items onto the floor, picking up each individually and checking them over. When he found nothing unusual, he put them back in the bag and shoved them back at the boy.

"Empty your pockets."

"What?"

"I said: _empty your pockets._ Or would you like me to call security?"

The boy did as he was told. Nothing but a receipt came out of his pocket. The blonde picked it up and scanned through it, remembering the items he looked at a few seconds ago. He handed it back to the boy when he was satisfied. The boy, shaking, took it hesitantly, cramming it inside his pocket afterwards. The blonde glared down. He looked like a bloody tall tower, standing over the kid. It was like comparing Camelot's size to your local newsagents - the blonde being Camelot, the kid being the newsagents, of course. Merlin couldn't take it anymore.

"I think you should leave him alone now. He's proved his innocence. There's no reason to bully him. He's just a kid."

The blonde poked his head up to stare in disbelief at him, then glanced back at the boy and gestured for him to go. The boy scurried off, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he noticed the blonde's nametag:

ARTHUR PENDRAGON – HEAD OF MENSWEAR.

As far as first impressions went, this didn't seem very good.

_Well, shit._

* * *

><p>Gwen fidgeted with a bag at the till point. Their section was surprisingly slow today. It might have been because of the incident that happened about ten minutes ago, but she couldn't be sure. Usually womens-wear was buzzing with customers, especially when there were sales on. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the 'court physician,' as he was referred to unless it was an emergency. <em>He's the only one again today . . .<em> Gwen thought. She completely forgot about packing the bags until someone coughed impatiently.

"Oh! I'm sorry, it's just. . . it's been a hard day today. I know the person who got injured, and I'm just worried. . ." she apologised. The woman she was serving gave her a kind look of sympathy, as if she understood what she meant.

Morgana appeared from around the corner with a mischievous smirk on her face. Gwen looked confused.

"My dear cousin's voice can be heard from the escalators! He's jumping ahead before thinking things through. Apparently, we have a shop lifter here today!" she sang almost a bit _too_ happily.

Gwen laughed and stepped out from behind the counter. "Why is that a good thing, exactly?"

"It means something _eventful_ is happening, of course! That, and I hear we have a new little pet to play with?"

Gwen nodded her head while tending to a second customer's items. "His name is Merlin. You'd like him, milady. Too bad he's in the mens department. . . Hopefully you'll meet him later? You're taking your break the same time as me, right?"

Morgana nodded, too. She _was _entitled to a break of her own, after all. She preferred to take it with Gwen so she wouldn't feel alone, and Gwen always made sure she took her medicine at lunch times. The queues for McDonalds always seemed that little bit smaller than they would be at two o'clock, as well, which was an added bonus.

The other girl continued: "Well he'll hopefully be getting the same time as us, so I can introduce you! He's really sweet and kind – but I don't think he's quite your type, mila—"

"Gwen, please, you don't have to call me that when Uther's not around. It's rather embarrassing, to be quite frank."

Gwen giggled, but didn't say anything else. The line of customers was gradually increasing, and since her and Morgana were the only people there for the moment, their conversation had to be put on hold.

* * *

><p>"And who the <em>fuck<em> do you think you are?"

It had been around five minutes since the argument had started, but miraculously, Merlin still had a job. He thought he would've been reported straight away, what with Arthur being the manager's son, and if Arthur wanted someone fired, all he had to do was run to his father and complain. Probably. At least, he thought that was what would happen. And although the blonde was fuming, he seemed to be enjoying the fact that he could do more shouting at a complete stranger.

"I happen to know the boy, thanks, and he's not a thief. You shouldn't accuse him out of the blue like that." The boy in question, hearing what Merlin had said, poked his head round the corner of a sale stand. In truth, Merlin had no idea who the boy was, and the boy had never seen or heard of Merlin before, but for a brief second, they completely understood each other, and the boy returned to Merlin's side, holding a plaid scarf in his hands.

"Cousin, I think the man was looking for this. I took it off the hanger and put it in mum's carrier bag by mistake, but I've got it back now." He turned to Arthur with an apologetic expression on his face and held the scarf out to him. "I'm. . . not in any trouble, am I, sir?"

Arthur grunted and took the scarf from him, fiddling around to see if the price tag was still there. He looked around and gave it back to the boy, placing another sticker over the top of the original one.

"Just don't do it again, alright? We don't tolerate thieves here, and my father doesn't usually give second chances."

Merlin blinked. That was a sudden change of attitude, he noted. What's more, he even replaced the sale tag with a different one and marked the price down further. The boy grinned, thanked his 'cousin' and walked off, bowing politely to Merlin when he was out of Arthur's view. He really hoped he'd be seeing _this_ side of his boss than the previous one.

"Back to the original question: who do you think you are, exactly?"

Maybe not.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, though. "I thought the original question was "And who the _fuck_ do you think you are?""

Arthur, irritated as hell now and looking like a prince who'd just been told he will never be like his father no matter what he did, raised a hand to Merlin and almost slapped the man straight across the face. But he didn't. That wouldn't have made a very good impression on the customers or people who planned on trying to get a job at Camelot.

"I asked you a question. Answer it before I throw you in the old locker room."

Merlin hesitated and held back his laughter. "Is that a threat? Because, y'know, a locker room doesn't sound like a bad place to be. I think a lot of people would prefer to be trapped in a locker room where they can sit down for hours on end and not actually _do_ anything down there."

"Oh, so you work here now, do you?"

"Your father employed me officially this morning."

The blonde looked towards Merlin's chest, spotting the name tag almost immediately but letting his gaze linger there for another second. Merlin didn't really take any notice. When they locked eyes again, Arthur appeared to be glaring intensely at the warlock.

"Merlin? That's a stupid name. Tell me, _Mer_lin. Do you know how to walk on your knees?"

He didn't quite understand the question, so he remained quiet with an awkward smile.

"Welcome to Camelot. Try not to be an idiot. You can start by picking up all of the empty hangers and putting them back in the changing room." He turned to leave, but as if he'd just remembered something, he looked back, smirking. "Oh, but _do_ make sure that you actually _use_ the hangers if you see any clothing on the floor. It's a pain to clear things up at the end of the day."

Merlin scoffed. "Of course, _sire,_" he replied, mimicking a bow.

That only irritated him more.

_Prat._

Despite not wanting to, Merlin proceeded to pick up the hangers and stray pieces of clothing, with Arthur's gaze looming over him.

The idea of being thrown into an old locker room was really starting to appeal to him.

* * *

><p>"<em>Can a trained medical member of staff please contact 57093."<em>

The announcement rang for the seventh time in the space of two hours. Something really wasn't right, and Gaius was beginning to have his suspicions. He wouldn't have minded if he was younger, maybe, and maybe knew a bit more about why these calls kept happening, but this was ridiculous.

When Gaius arrived at the lingerie department to see what the problem was, he hadn't expected to see a _customer_ injured. So far the only injuries had been dealt to employees. Gaius rushed over. It was just as he expected.

There was a huge gash stretching from the customer's shoulder to the elbow, and it was oozing blood. He reached for his bag, but stopped himself from getting anything. He didn't feel comfortable with a crowd around him.

"I'll take her to the first aid room. I'm better equipped there. Would someone be so kind as to help her up and walk her to the room?" one of the older employees volunteered, and it wasn't too long before they were taking the patient back to Gaius' area to be examined.

…

Thankfully, there was only an hour left until his break, now. Time flew by quickly. Merlin managed to get his lunch break at three o'clock, much to Arthur's displeasure. As it turned out, the 'prince' himself was taking a break, then, too. So they'd agreed on leaving together, but not talking or arguing with each other. It was for the best, they'd assumed.

They didn't get on very well: Merlin constantly referred to Arthur as a prat, and Arthur pretty much thought of Merlin as a servant and kept calling him an idiot. That been said, they did have a few moments where they acted like friends and laughed at a few people. At one stage, Arthur was just about to tell Merlin to go to another section, but Merlin took an interest in an elderly woman and her son arguing with Uther over magic and wrong-sized hangers. He was going to complain, originally, but he ended up hiding alongside the warlock, laughing his head off whenever Uther looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. The woman kept shouting at him, non-stop, with the man looking completely innocent yet thoroughly amused. It was easy to tell that the king was getting slightly agitated, but it was _very_ entertaining.

Merlin knelt down to scoop up another item of clothing – trousers, this time – from under the rack. When he stood up, he backed into Arthur and quickly stepped away to continue his job.

"Wait."

Merlin paused, doing exactly as he was told. _Maybe he's noticed it, too._ Something about the clothing he had picked up, no matter what it was, had a distinct pattern to it. At first he thought it was just the style, but when he actually got around to looking for certain clothing, he noticed the slashes in the sleeves and the trouser legs. Sleeveless dresses were fine, as well as skirts, scarves and gloves.

"Hand me those trousers."

Merlin obeyed and handed them over. The slash was clearly visible, from the knee down to the trouser leg, even when folded. Arthur's expression grew wary, but he put on a brave face. It looked like he had no idea what was going on, either. Merlin cleared his throat to distract the other man's train of thought. Arthur blinked, then after a three long seconds, looked over at Merlin again. A smirk played on his lips.

"I need you to go to the bay to get a rail. People have been misplacing items in the sales and they need to be taken back to the correct sections," and with that, he hastily walked over to another employee – Merlin found out his name was Leon while returning hangers to the changing rooms – and started discussing the dilemma.

_Why can't he just do this himself? It's not like he's _actual _royalty,_ Merlin thought angrily. He watched as Arthur went to open the changing room doors. Making sure nobody was around, he shot a look towards the doors and his eyes flashed a stunning gold for just less than a second. The doors swung open, taking the prince by surprise and knocking him backwards. Merlin laughed quietly to himself.

He _really_ hoped the CCTV cameras didn't catch that.


End file.
